Losing Hope
by Xenith
Summary: SEQUEL to the Scars of Youth! Ron and Fred have been kidnapped, Harry's power is beggining to overwhelm him as he slowly spirals downward, and Ginny & Hermione don't know how to handle any of it. Hogwarts comes under attack and all is lost. Right? yr 6 UP
1. Prologue

Xenith  
  
A/N: Nothing is mine all belongs to the almighty JKR. I HIGHLY recommend to all reading this that they first read: The Scars of Our Youth. This story, Losing Hope, is the sequel to it and you may not understand everything that's going on if you don't read that one first. And trust me, there is a LOT going on. Enjoy! (Sorry it took me sooo long!!! I hope to have chapter one posted soon, I already have it written in long hand so now I just have to type it up!!!) ENJOY!!!  
  
Prologue  
  
"How many times do I have to say NO?" Fred and Ron heard an indignant voice say as it passed their dungeon door.  
  
"Fred---doesn't that voice sound familiar?"  
  
"Yeah . . . let me listen." His heart began to pound painfully in his chest.  
  
"You're a member of their Order!" The Death Eater bellowed at the eighteen year-old wizard he had chained to the wall. "Tell me."  
  
"No." The first voice growled.  
  
"Is that---"   
  
"It can't be---" The two Weasley's said at the same time completely dumbfounded.  
  
"Lee!" Both boys leapt from their spots in the corners of the prison and ran for the dungeon door.   
  
There was a massive grunt as the Death Eater hit the young wizard in the chest.  
  
"Fred?" he coughed out. "Ron?"  
  
"Don't speak to the other prisoners!" The Death Eater threw his wand arm behind him. The curse flew through the tiny window in the door, tearing the bars from the small window at the top of the door and knocking Ron and Fred to the back of the dungeon. "Now," the cloaked figure rounded on Lee. "You will tell me now and die next to painlessly, or you can make me drag the information out of you and have your next few hours filled with insurmountable pain. It's your choice."  
  
"And what is it, EXACTly, that you want to know?" he threw a brave, bruised, grin at the man.  
  
"Lee!" Fred was fighting the conflicting emotions that were running through his head. Lee couldn't say anything. Not a word. But it was Lee. LEE. His best friend. He couldn't die . . . not like this.  
  
"Don't be smart with me boy. Tell me who you are working with. Who else is in that bloody Order!"  
  
"I am afraid I am not privy to such confidential information."  
  
"Don't lie! You were on your way to someone."  
  
"I was on a school trip to Hogsmeade!" Lee interrupted.  
  
"You're out of school! Who were you supposed to contact?"  
  
"A mammal." Lee snarled through a barely controlled smirk.  
  
"Demolishio!" There was a terrible crack and a strangled cry as Lee's forearm snapped. "Who was it?!"  
  
"Don't Lee!" Ron bellowed, leaping at the door again. "Lee you can't say anything!" He banged his fists against the thick wood.  
  
"I know you git," he replied through clenched teeth.  
  
"Who?" The Death Eater repeated venomously.  
  
"I'll die first." Lee spat.  
  
"That can be arranged."   
  
"Do something, Fred," Ron hissed, turning on his brother.  
  
---  
  
Harry Potter ducked as the quarter staff rushed at his head, swinging his own at the feet of his opponent, eighteen year-old Terence Higgs. Terence leapt out of the way, aiming the end of his staff at the centre of Harry's back. Harry spun and caught the staff between his feet, ripping the weapon from the older boy. He spun, flipping the weapon into his hand as he waited for Terence to make his next move.  
  
Terence stood only six feet away from him watching Harry in the same manner that Harry was watching him. Taking in his defensive stance, where his hands and feet were, and it was a good thing Harry was watching as he was, otherwise he may not have noticed the dagger sliding out of his sleeve before it penetrated his skull. But Harry did notice and therefore caught the dagger before it skewered his brains.  
  
Terence nodded and came out of his offensive stance. Harry followed suit, returning the weapons to the table at the side of the room.  
  
Both boys left the training room through a side door leading into their dorm room. Terence left to go take a shower.  
  
"What's the count up to, Terence?" Harry asked of his roommate as he came out of the bathroom.  
  
"Eighty-three wizards, since yesterday," Terence answered, toweling off his curly locks.  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Have you heard from them?" He peered over to where Harry sat on his bed, half naked as he unlaced his trainers.  
  
"No," Harry answered, his friends weren't allowed to write him, no-one was to know that he was at Hogwarts.  
  
"Yeah," Terence said, his sadness for Harry's situation implied in his tone.  
  
Harry Potter and Terence Higgs' relationship had evolved considerably over the three summer months the two had spent together. They never spoke much, Terence being silent by nature and training and Harry having lost much of his desire to converse with anyone after Ron's kidnapping the previous year; which he continued to blame himself for. Harry found himself trusting Terence as much as he had trusted Ron, almost more so. Harry occasionally worried that Terence was taking Ron's place in his life. He tried to dismiss it as him just missing his best friend and he was looking for someone to lean on and Terence just being the closest person available, just became who he went to. But Terence never let Harry lean on anyone or anything. Terence was his teacher and mentor. Someone whom he could depend upon, trust with his life. //But that used to be Ron.// . . .  
  
Terence nodded toward the bathroom, his question implied. Was Harry going to bathe or not?  
  
He nodded, exiting their dorm, finishing his disrobing when he was sure the door was closed tight behind him. Harry took a moment to examine himself in the mirror, taking note of how much he had changed over the summer. //Watch Ginny not recognise me now,// he thought to himself. //And Hermione and R---//.  
  
"I see you're finally filling out, young man," the full length mirror said to him in its soft Welsh dialect. Harry frowned at his reflection.  
  
"Yeah," Harry agreed.  
  
"What's bothering you, lad?" The mirror asked softly.  
  
Harry shrugged.  
  
"Oh, come-on, tell an---"  
  
"No." Harry cut her off. He climbed into the shower stall without any more from the mirror.  
  
---  
  
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	2. Chapter 1: the return of Miss Weasley

Xenith

A/N: Oh yes, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Kimmy, she's been one of my best reviewers from the very beginning and I'm sorry I couldn't go snowboarding!

Chapter One

Harry rolled over, his toned arms hanging over the side of his bed as he slept.

Terence watched him as he slept from the other side of the room, perched on his headboard.

Harry stretched his head back, exposing the exquisite lines of his long neck to the world.

/It would be so easy/ Terence thought to himself, running his fingers over his own neck. /So very easy./ Terence reached to his thigh, slipping the dagger from its sheath in one silent, effortless motion. He ran his finger down the cool steal, spotless and stunning in its terrifying perfection. He flicked his wrist, sending the weapon flying towards the sleeping boy with a next to silent hiss as it moved through the air.

The dagger buried itself deep in the soft bedding beside Harry's flawless neck.

Harry woke with a start, instantly awake, wand appearing in his hand, glasses perched on his lightly freckled nose.

"Good," Terence said. "You're awake. Get dressed, it's the first day of school."

---

Ginny was weeping.

She couldn't help it. She couldn't go back. There was no Ron and no Fred. Her brothers were gone, probably dead. And she had no-one . . . nothing.

Except for Harry.

There was always Harry. Always would be Harry. And he wanted to be with her. He'd said as much when they had parted at the conclusion of the previous year. Hadn't he?

"Ginny?" She heard her name being called from somewhere to her right. She looked. She was on the train. She couldn't remember having gotten onto the Hogwarts Express. Did she say goodbye to her mum and dad? And George, what about him?

"Ginny?" Hermione was calling her, moving through the fog of her brain, closer and closer to the forefront of her mind. "Gin, come and sit with Colin and I." Ginny didn't move. "Come-on." She felt Hermione take her hand and lead her down the narrow corridor towards their compartment.

They were in the compartment now, the door thumping closed behind them.

"Hullo, Gin," Colin said from his seat, an emotionless smile creasing his mouth for a moment before it dropped back to complete his blank stare.

"So, how was your summer?" Hermione addressed her.

Ginny shrugged. Her summer had been terrible. She hadn't had any contact with any of her friends from school, only the witches and wizards of the Order who kept dropping in the middle of the night to speak with her parents.

"Hard?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Ginny nodded. "Hard."

"How's George?"

"He's working," Ginny answered. George had spent the majority of the summer locked in his bedroom before he disappeared to Dumbledore with Lee Jordan for a month.

"Yeah."

The rest of the trip was passed in silence.

---

Hermione stepped out of the black carriage and climbed the ancient granite stairs into Hogwarts.

She flowed with the rest of the Hogwarts student body into the Great Hall. She found her eyes scanning the heads of every student in the Hall, searching desperately for Harry.

He wasn't there. Of course he wasn't there.

Hermione took a seat near Ginny and Colin, leaving ample room on either side of her, for Harry and Ron.

/No./ She thought, looking up to the head table. /Not Ron. Only Harry./

"Hullo, Seamus, how was your---" Hermione started, but stopped as silence cut through the crowd of students.

The large double doors at the far end of the Hall hissed open, letting Terence Higgs and, none other than, Harry Potter sweep inside with an impressive stride, their cloaks flowing behind them.

Harry looked self conscience as he followed in Terence's grand wake. He caught sight of Hermione and Ginny as they moved through the hall. He could feel his heart lighten ever so slightly as his eyes fell upon the ginger head of Ginny Weasley. Harry watched as Ginny's gaze rose, her large chocolate eyes catching his.

He slid into the seat beside her, her hand immediacy seeking out his beneath the tabletop. She squeezed his hand tightly. Harry squeezed back, a huge part of him extremely relieved to have her hand back in his. At that moment Harry wanted nothing more than to have her lips against his and to hold her in his arms and never let go.

"Look, Harry," Ginny said softly, nodding towards the head table.

Harry's eyes moved off of Ginny to the front of the hall in time to see Terence take up the empty seat beside Professor Snape. "Figg's gone," Ginny added.

Professor McGonagall entered through a side door and moved to the center of the hall carrying a rickety three-legged stool and the ancient Hogwarts Sorting Hat, twenty or so new students in her wake.

"Even less than last year . . ." Hermione trailed off softly. Fewer and fewer new students were showing up every year, their parents thinking it was safer to keep their children at home with them rather than send them to Dumbledore's cursed school.

"Who are those two in the back?" Ginny asked with the slightest of nods.

"When I call your name," McGonagall announced to the shaking first years and the two straight-backed sixteen year-olds. "Step forward and take a seat. The hat shall announce where you will be spending the remainder of your time here. When you have been assigned to a house you are to go and join your classmates." There were nods from the assembled students. "Beal, Alan," the first year made his way to the Sorting Hat.

"Hufflepuff!"

---

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	3. Chapter 2: the return of Mister Malfoy

Xenith

Chapter two

As the last of the first years were finally sorted; McGonagall gathered the stool, hat, and scroll and hid them away in a room right off of the hall before joining the head table and her fellow Professors.

"Welcome," Professor Dumbledore greeted his school. "To Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before we begin our feast this evening, I would like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, Terence Higgs," he motioned to where Terence was seated. Terence locked eyes with Harry.

There was sparse clapping at this announcement for two reasons. One being that the Hogwarts student body had come to expect a new Defense teacher every year. And two being that it was common knowledge, rumour, that the former Seeker was in league with the Dark Lord.

"He's awfully young to be named Professor, isn't he?" Hermione asked Harry quietly, unaware to the depth if the friendship he and Harry had forged over the summer. Harry nodded, his outrage at the announcement invisible on his face. Terence hadn't told him that he was to be teaching this year, preferring to leave him under the impression that he was staying only as his mentor and nothing more. /Why does everyone feel the need to lie to me and tell me half-truths/

"Yes," Ginny agreed. "He only left school last year."

"May the feast," Dumbledore said with a flourish. "Begin."

Harry moved slowly as he filled his plate, much hungrier then he cared to share with the world. /It was weak./ Terence had said. /Any weakness that he can catch will be exploited by him in the end. Never show that you're weak. Never show fear./ That was Terence's mantra, that was the way Harry had learned to live over the summer. And if he wanted to go on living, those words were what he'd keep with him as he moved through the world.

He took a final look at Ginny before getting up, headed toward Gryffindor tower for the hours of training to come before he was to get a chance to sleep.

All of a sudden he wasn't hungry anymore.

---

The first day.

Harry pounded his way silently down the faint path, his blood pumping in his ears, his breath moving fluidly in and out of his lungs as he moved further and further along. He could hear the boy next to him match him step for step, breath for breath as they cut through the woods at the bottom of the mountain.

Harry checked his watch. He and Terence had left an hour ago, at 4:30 that morning, for their usual jog. Another fifteen minutes and they'd have to head back in order to make it to breakfast on time.

Harry quickened his pace, an unspoken invitation to race.

The two ran, feet pounding deep caverns into the soft, autumn earth as they moved swiftly and silently through the dawning forest.

There was a drop ahead of them, a cliff falling more than two hundred feet down to the lake and overlooking the majestic school. The former came into view as the trees thinned and the rocky, needle covered, ground turned to frosty grass; there would be snow there soon, but right now all that lay before the two racers was pristine air and a half-a mile of frozen ground.

Terence was gaining on Harry, matching him step for step, their lithe forms cutting through the fog like antelope through the plains.

With only a quarter-of-a mile left, Terence darted out ahead of Harry, swerving in front of him and nearly causing him to falter.

Terence's longer legs quickly covered the rest of the expanse, reaching the edge of the cliff only half-a second before Harry.

"You're slacking, Harry," Terence said, putting his hands on the small of his back, stretching.

"I beat you yesterday," Harry shot back. "And you were the one with a head start."

"So, you can only win when you're the one being chased? That's not going to cut it, I'm afraid."

Harry, too, stretched, arms climbing to the sky as his gaze fell on the school, miles away, nestled in a bed of mountains, fog, and the brown and green of the Forbidden Forest.

Terence shook his head at Harry's decision not to answer.

"Time to head back."

---

Harry climbed out of the shower, clean of the stench that always hung with him after his two and a half hour morning jog.

He entered the empty dormitory, the other boys having already gone down to breakfast while he was bathing. He dressed quickly, his school robes hanging off of him in new and awkward ways.

His robes and shirt tight over his much broader shoulders. The sleeves were much shorter in the arm, his trousers a good two and a half inches short in the leg. His white shirt and Gryffindor vest tight across his broader chest. Funny, Harry couldn't remember ever having been close to filling out his clothing before.

Harry concentrated a moment, focusing all of his attention on making his clothing the right size, easier to move and fight in. Within moments he could feel the magic flowing out of his skin and into the material enveloping him. Seconds later he could move his arms and legs freely, his school uniform fitting him better than it ever had before.

Harry headed down to breakfast, hoping with all his heart that he could slip in unnoticed. Miraculously, he avoided the attention of the majority of the student body, except Ginny.

"Here," she said as Harry took the seat next to her and across from Hermione and Seamus. Ginny handed Harry his timetable for the new year of classes. "McGonagall handed them out earlier. I grabbed yours."

Harry nodded his thanks, scanning his class schedule. He had 'Quidditch Exploration' first. The previous QE class had been his favourite, flying and freedom, and more importantly, Ginny.

"Everyone," Professor McGonagall called from the head table, waiting for the students attention. "Here is the schedule for Quidditch tryouts. We are announcing them now so as to avoid the confusion that has occurred in previous years when it comes to the use of the Pitch." With a flourish of her wand, delicate golden letters flowed into the air. At the very top of the list read 'Monday: Gryffindor - 4 to 6 pm' followed closely by 'Slytherin – 7 to 9 pm' (Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw on Tuesday).

"Slytherin is second to no one." An icy smooth voice drawled from the rear of the hall.

In a tidal wave of motion every head in the hall turned.

The sight that assaulted Harry's vision was, next to Voldemort, the worst possible thing that could have happened on the first day of classes.

Draco Malfoy stood, in all of his diabolical grandeur, at the back of the hall, flanked by the large double doors and enveloped in white hot sunshine.

"Oh, dear . . ." Hermione breathed, clutching Seamus' hand beneath the table.

"Take your seat, Draco," Terence said in his usual quite manner, coming up behind the younger boy and taking his arm.

Malfoy only growled.

"Take," increasing his grip on Malfoy's arm. "Your seat."

Malfoy tore his arm away from Terence, stalking over to the Slytherin table, taking up his former throne of glory among the worst of the school.

"I thought he had dropped out," Hermione said, looking imploringly over to Harry. "How can he have come back?"

Harry shrugged, anger boiling in his veins as his eyes burned holes into the back of Malfoy's perfect blond head. None of this showed on the surface, all of his preliminary training had been on how to conceal his emotions to help control his wandless magic.

In a far off part of the castle, a bell tolled signaling that the students should head off to their first class of the year. Everyone shuffled out of the Great Hall, splitting off in dozens of different directions and chattering amongst themselves.

---

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	4. Chapter 3

Xenith

Chapter Three

---

Ron stared hungrily at the moldy stone floor, numb to the world around him.

He knew that Fred was in the opposite corner of the cell, singing softly to himself yet again. He also knew that with each passing day the chance of he and his brother escaping or getting rescued grew thinner and thinner.

Several months prior, Ron had lost all concept of time longer ago than he cared to think about, Lucius Malfoy had proudly produced an issue of the Daily Prophet with the headline: "Third Weasley goes missing" with the sub-heading: "Search is given up for the best friend of Harry Potter and brother while another, William Weasley, goes missing---not having appeared at work the previous Monday. Things aren't looking good . . ."

The paper was currently lying crumpled in the far corner of the cell, doing little to conceal their waste.

"When I was younger, so much younger than today," Fred's voice broke into Ron's thoughts. "I never needed anyone's help in any way. But now those days are gone, I'm not so self assured . . ." his voice dropped, singing and mumbling under his breath again.

"They killed Lee, didn't they?" Ron asked.

Fred continued to stare at the ground a moment, muttering to himself, before slowly raising his head to look at his younger brother, locking eyes with him, his head cocked to the side. "Yes," Fred said solemnly, holding his gaze briefly before dropping his eyes back to the ground.

"Fred---"

"You know he is, Ron. I know he is."

"And Bill?"

Fred shrugged.

"How can you not care this much?" Ron demanded.

"Do you know how long we've been in here, Ron?" Fred said, plucking a twig from the floor and tracing his name in the muck coating the ground.

"Too long."

"Nine months."

"What? How do you know?"

Fred tapped one long, freckled finger to his temple. "Good memory."

"We're not dead yet though," Ron commented, knowing what it was Fred was getting at.

Fred nodded. "And what do you think that means?"

"That they're not going to kill us, are they?" Ron leant forward, elbows on his knees.

"Shush," Fred said, leaning his head against the wall behind him, and his finger to his chapped and bleeding lips, his eyes fluttering shut. "Don't tell, I don't think they know."

Fred re-focused his attention to his twig and the muck on the ground, continuing his doodling and writing of names.

The Weasley's solitude was broken minutes, or perhaps hours later when a key was scraped through the rusty lock and the door creaked open, giving way to two Death Eaters. Most recognizably Lucius Malfoy and Palleton Parkinson.

Fred and Ron's faces dropped darkly, both knowing full well that Malfoy only ever came to deal with them when something big was about to happen or already had.

"Get up!" Malfoy snapped. Neither Weasley moved. "Don't make me ask again."

Ron spat at Lucius' feet.

"Mobilicorups!"

Fred and Ron felt their bodies being yanked upwards, thrown at the feet of the two Death Eaters.

"Get up!"

Fred and Ron stayed on the ground.

The Death Eaters, fed up with the Weasley's insolence, grabbed a hold of the two filthy bodies and dragged them into the corridor outside their cell.

"We've prepared a little show for you two today."

---

The Quidditch Exploration class had run over and now the majority of the class was jogging back to the school in order to make it to their next period on time.

Harry, on the other hand, was walking slowly across the grounds away from the pitch, his hands in his pockets, not caring whether or not he made it to Charms on time. He had come to the conclusion long ago that his attending class on time, and at all, was unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

He could hear someone coming up behind him, their feet padding lightly on the ground.

Harry stepped to the side just in time to miss having the boy bash his shoulder into him.

"Watch it, Potter," Malfoy snapped, striding away from him.

Harry did not acknowledge Malfoy's actions and continued his steady trek back to the castle. Harry fished into his trouser pocket closing his fingers around a box of cigarettes that Seamus had sent him over the summer. He put the smoke in to his mouth snapping his fingers at the end. A small burst of flame appeared at his finger tips.

---

"Class starts at ten-fifteen, Mr. Potter," Professor Flitwick reprimanded as Harry walked into class a good twenty minutes late.

Harry nodded to the diminutive Professor, taking his seat in between Hermione and Seamus at the back of the room.

"You'd do better to be on time Thursday."

Harry nodded again, not really caring what it was Flitwick thought would be best for him. "Miss Granger? If you would be so kind to explain the lesson for him?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione turned to Harry, hissing: "Where have you been?"

Harry shrugged in response.

Hermione sighed and went on to explain the lesson with less vigor than she had in previous years.

Harry wasn't the only one feeling the weight of Ron's loss. Her heart felt empty and heavy with sorrow. She wasn't complete without Ron, a large part of her was missing. She had realized that over the years during the periods in which Ron ignored her with great enthusiasm. She loved Ron, and she knew it now more than ever. But more importantly, she knew that she would never be able to live without him.

/Got that, Ron/ she asked her love silently. /Don't you dare die on me. You have to come back. I need you./

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said quietly, turning to his work, his work being a blank piece of parchment. Harry had stopped bothering participating in any of his classes except for Defense, Potions, and QE (it was Quidditch after all).

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	5. Chapter 4

Xenith

Chapter Four

"Welcome," Harry greeted the new Quidditch hopefuls as he strode to the centre of the pitch that evening. "To the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts. Let me warn you, this year will not be easy. Gryffindor has a history of being the best team that this pitch has ever seen, and I expect the lot of you to uphold this tradition. I will accept nothing less," Harry ended in a dark, quiet tone, the Gryffindor team taking up their places behind him.

Directly flanking him were his two first string Beaters, Trevor Andrews and Paul Bettany, seventh years and a good head taller than the rest of the team. At Paul's left stood his first string Keeper, Conner Donnally, his baseball hat perched backwards on his dirty blond head. Beside Conner stood Colin Creevy (his second string Keeper), his large chocolate eyes betraying a wisdom much older than his freckled, mousy face.

Timothy Gresham, Harry's oldest and only male Chaser at fifteen, stood protectively beside one of the two girls on the team. Brigid Bennet, fifteen years old with a head full of wild golden curls and the only reserve Chaser. Gryffindor's second first string Chaser, Casper Perkins, just peaked out from behind the two Beaters. Casper was the shortest member of the Gryffindor team, and youngest at fourteen, he had a head full of shaggy, light brown hair and pale blue eyes the size of saucers with lashes that went on for miles.

Ginny Weasley, first string Chaser, stood at Harry's right, standing guard over him and glaring at the new Quidditch hopefuls.

"Chasers," Harry directed. Three of his Chasers moved off to his left. The smallest of growls escaped his throat, six of the Gryffindors before him jumped and scurried after the three. Ginny stayed at his side. "Conner, Colin," the Keepers snapped to attention. "Practice with them." The two boys nodded and went. "Beaters," Paul and Trevor set off toward the far end of the pitch, another five prospects trailing after them.. "I suppose the rest of you are expecting to be second string Seekers then?" The three small Gryffindors before him nodded timidly.

"Harry," Ginny said quietly. Harry inclined his head, listening intently as she spoke to him. The three watched as Harry nodded and Ginny moved away from him towards where the other Chasers and Keepers were running drills.

"All right," Harry said when she'd gone. "Now that I have you three all to myself, let's get in the air."

---

Two hours later Harry and his team stood before the applicants once again.

"Michael Jones," the third year stepped forward eagerly. "Reserve Chaser." The boy grinned from ear to ear. "Alyssa Selbin," a second third year came forward. "Reserve Chaser. Andrew Cummings---Reserve Beater. Ethan Donner---Reserve Beater. And Martin Drusin---Reserve Seeker," a tiny twelve year old boy bounced forward.

"Good," Harry finished. "See you at practice." Harry marched off of the pitch towards the Gryffindor changing rooms.

Ginny rushed after him.

"Do you want to study together tonight, Harry?" She asked when she'd caught up with him, touching his arm lightly.

"I can't." Harry replied, not looking at her.

"Why not?" She looked inquiringly at him with sad chocolate eyes.

"Training," he said softly.

"When will you be back?" She slid her small gloved hand into his, pulling him closer to her side.

"Around midnight."

"I'll wait up for you."

"No, you need your sleep---"

"I will do as I please, Mr. Potter."

A small smile escaped Harry's cold emerald eyes.

They turned the corner into the Gryffindor locker room. Ginny leant against the wall, the torch light warming her soft features as Harry gazed down at her, his leather clad hands running up and down her arms.

"You really should go to bed, Gin," Harry said softly, caressing her cheek. "I won't get back until twelve, and you have an early class tomorrow."

"Don't you give me that. You have an early class too."

"I know," he tucked a lock of feathery ginger hair behind her ear. "But I have to get up at four-thirty tomorrow---"

"You what? Harry, that's ridiculous!"

"I've been doing it all summer, Gin, it's fine. I get up with Terence to go running."

Ginny was quiet, examining her trainers and avoiding looking at Harry.

"I've got to go," Harry said. "And Gin?" He tipped her face up to his.

"Yes?"

Harry pressed his mouth lightly against hers, kissing first her top and then her bottom lip, lingering with her for several wonderful moments before breaking away.

"I'll see you."

---

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	6. Chapter 5

Xenith

Chapter Five

Chris Jameson, a small, seventeen year-old with ragged brown hair and big blue eyes, strode into the dark cave; glad to be out of the blinding sunlight. Beside her was her one year older brother Mathew and trailing only a foot behind them was the bulky ginger-haired Charlie Weasley.

Chris pushed her goggles onto the top of her head, causing her already wind-tangled hair to fly messily around her face.

"Katie misses being out there with us," Charlie said softly from behind the siblings.

"Well someone has to take care of that damn child of yours, Weasley," Mat said in his usual snide tones.

"Watch it, Jameson," Charlie snapped back.

"It's not my fault that you got her knocked up. Are you ever going to even marry the girl?"

"I thought that I told you to shut your mouth," Charlie hissed, grabbing Mat's shoulder and spinning him about.

"Don't you dare touch me," Mat's voice fell exceptionally low as his smoldering glare centered on the red-head.

"I'll have you know that I DID marry her, you arse!" Charlie yelled, pushing Mat with all of his 180 pounds of muscle.

For Mathew, that was the last straw. He didn't care what Charlie had said; with Mat, his fists tended to think and move faster than his brain could keep up. Mat's left hook caught Charlie square in the jaw.

Charlie's head snapped back, the crack of his jaw seeming to echo in the small corridor.

"Stop it!" Chris said, jumping between the two boys, stopping Mat in his tracks as he prepared to hit Charlie again. Mat would never raise his hand against his sister---he loved her far too much.

Charlie, knowing full well that he'd never attack him with Chris in the line of fire, launched himself at Mat.

"Enough," a soft, deadly serious voice sounded from behind Charlie, stopping him mid-swing. Charlie turned to find his wife and child standing at the end of the corridor, anger creasing her usually angelic face.

Katie, once Farren, but now Weasley, stood holding a bundle in her arms; a tuft of brilliant ginger hair poking out from the hand-knit blankets.

"You married her?" Chris asked Charlie.

"Yes," Charlie answered, keeping his eyes on his wife and son.

"When?"

"January."

"Why didn't you tell us?" She asked softly.

"Katie didn't want me too," Charlie said, moving away from Mat and Chris, over to his family---having had enough of the two of them.

"I've found a name for him, Charlie," Katie said softly to her husband.

"What?" Charlie stroked his son's head, brushing vibrant red strands aside, gazing into the boy's big brown eyes.

"What do you think of Warren?"

Charlie took the boy from his mother's arms, holding him up in front of him and making the baby coo with glee. "Warren Weasley," Charlie said, trying the name out. "It's wonderful."

He and Katie moved out of the corridor and into their private chambers, shutting the door tightly behind them.

"Smooth," Chris said, smacking the back of her brother's head when she was sure that they were gone.

"What?" Mat asked sharply, rubbing the back of his head. Chris hit hard.

"You're such a moron," she said with a sigh, stuffing her hands in her pockets and moving down the dirt tunnel.

Mat grumbled something unintelligible and followed her.

---

Time was moving faster than Harry could remember it having moved in quite some time. Before Harry knew it, it was the end of October and he was making his way down to breakfast on the morning of Halloween.

"I know that you don't want to go, Harry," Hermione started. "But I think that---"

"Mr. Potter," Terrance said, coming up silently behind the pair.

Harry stopped, turning to his mentor.

"The Headmaster wishes you to meet him in his office immediately."

"Password?" Harry asked.

"Almond Pie."

Harry gave a sharp nod, moving away from Hermione to the stairs and Dumbledore's tower office.

Terence tipped his head ever so slightly to Hermione before melting back into the shadows and the crowd in the Entrance Hall.

Hermione sighed, grumbling to herself at Harry's new found demeanour.

---

"Almond Pie," Harry told the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office. The beast moved away obligingly, allowing Harry entrance to the rotating staircase.

Harry knocked softly on the door to the office.

"Come in," Dumbledore's frail voice sounded from within. Harry entered. Dumbledore was seated behind his grand desk, silver instruments whirling. "Take a seat."

Harry moved only to clasp his hands behind his back, staring Dumbledore square in the face.

"I have an offer to make you, Harry, if you are interested that is," Dumbledore dangled the bait before him. Harry refused to bite. "What I am offering you is the opportunity to focus all of your energies on your training."

"Why?"

"Because I believe that you have the potential for greatness, but you need to be trained properly first."

"And who's to train me then," Harry demanded. "Terence doesn't seem to keen on the job anymore."

"We're bringing someone in."

"And when exactly am I supposed to do all this extra training? My schedule is already quite full if you didn't notice."

"You will have to drop all of your elective classes, no-one will notice as long as you keep up with your core education."

Harry only nodded. He was looking forward to the extra training.

"Just to let you know, I've already made this offer to Miss Granger and she's accepted." Dumbledore turned back to his instruments as the impact of his words hit Harry fully.

"Excuse me?"

"You may go, Harry," Dumbledore said with a note of finality.

"Wha---"

"Good-bye, Mr Potter."

Harry left the tower office, sprinting towards the Great Hall. He had a couple of words for Hermione Granger.

-  
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	7. Chapter 6: Torture and Padfoot

_Xenith_  
  
Chapter Six  
  
The two Death Eaters hurled Fred to the floor.  
  
Spasms of pain ripped through him as two Cruciatus curses were aimed at him. They lifted the curses momentarily only to hit him with something that could only be described as a million hot steel pins driving into every pore of his skin.  
  
Fred groaned as a knife was brought to his chest, breaking his skin and leaving a thick, painful trail of hot, crimson blood.   
  
"Now, do you think you're prepared to tell us what we want?" The smallest of the Death Eaters asked.  
  
Fred spat at the shoes of the man, a voice he knew belonged to Peter Pettigrew.  
  
"Now that's not what we're looking for," the largest of the men growled, kicking Fred hard in the face.  
  
---  
  
Fred rolled onto his side.  
  
He was bleeding, bleeding more than he had in quite some time in fact.  
  
"Fred!"  
  
"He could hear someone calling him from far off. His side was aching, he couldn't remember why. All he wanted to do was sleep.  
  
"Fred! Don't you fall asleep on me!" Ron took hold of Fred's bare shoulders and moved him upright. His brother was drenched in cold sweat, bleeding profusely from his nose and side. "Wake up!" He shook Fred's head harder than he probably should have.   
  
Slowly, Fred's eyes blinked open and he gazed unknowingly at Ron.  
  
"Oh, thank Merlin," Ron heaved a sigh, resting his forehead on Fred's shoulder. "What have they done to you, Fred?" Ron said when he'd finally gathered himself.  
  
Fred didn't answer immediately, instead he brought his hand to his nose, wiping at the blood still pouring from it in a pathetic effort to stem the flow.  
  
"Fred," Ron turned his brother's face up to his. "You need to tell me what happened to you. Why is your nose bleeding? And more importantly, your side?"  
  
"They were asking me questions," Fred said vaguely, touching his injured right side. "Can you---"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Ron tore off the sleeve of his long ago soiled school shirt and bandaged his side. "I think you broke a rib."  
  
"I think you mean _they_ broke my rib," Fred corrected, trying to chuckle but wheezing instead.  
  
"What kind of questions?" Trying to bring Fred back to the more pressing issue.  
  
"About Hogwarts and Dumbledore . . . an-and Harry."  
  
"Did you say anything?" Ron demanded.  
  
"'Course not," Fred replied, his eyes drifting closed.  
  
"Fred!"  
  
_We have to get out of here._Ron thought, panic working its way into his mind. Fred needed a doctor, otherwise he wouldn't last much longer.   
  
---  
  
"Hermione," Harry growled, cornering his best friend in an empty corridor as she made her was out of the Great Hall and back towards Gryffindor Tower.  
  
Hermione jumped, spinning on an extremely angry Harry Potter. "Y-yes?" She stammered out, knowing full well what he was about to say to her.  
  
"I won't let you train with me. You don't need to, I can do it by myself," his glare narrowed even further as he confronted the much smaller girl.  
  
"You don't control me, Harry. I'm a big girl, I can make decisions for myself you know." She stood up straighter, matching Harry's glare with her own.   
  
"Hermione! This is ridiculous, you can't do this."   
  
"I can do whatever I please. I just want to be able to protect myself and the ones I love. Surely you can understand that," she hissed.  
  
Harry could. Could understand all to well, it was the reason that he was training so hard, right?  
  
"Ron wouldn't like this," Harry said darkly, his last effort at dissuading Hermione.  
  
"Don't you dare bring him into this, Harry Potter, this is MY decision. And no-one else's. Ron has nothing to do with it."   
  
---  
  
Harry was up at four-thirty the next morning, but unlike other mornings, today he was headed to the Quidditch pitch to meet with Hermione and their new trainer.  
  
With a heavy sigh, Harry rolled out of his bed and slid into his work out clothing. Harry moved swiftly out of his dormitory and down the stairs into the Gryffindor common room.  
  
In the soft light of early morning he could just make out the faint outline of a small curvy girl gazing out of the window.  
  
"Come-on, Hermione," Harry said softly before moving out of the portrait hole, Hermione at his heels. Harry moved swiftly through the empty castle corridors, Hermione wanted very badly to ask him to slow down but her better judgment told her that that wouldn't be that great of an idea.  
  
Harry and Hermione arrived at the Quidditch pitch several minutes later.  
  
"Where's our instructor?" Hermione asked, coming up beside Harry.  
  
Harry shrugged and set off at a swift jog around the edge of the field.   
  
Hermione went after him, struggling to keep up but never letting it show. She refused to let Harry know how hard this was going to be for her.  
  
"Look," she said after ten minutes or so, stopping Harry and pointing towards the opposite end of the pitch. "Someone's coming." Harry looked. Through the early morning fog strode a very familiar figure.  
  
Harry stepped hesitantly forward, not willing to let himself believe what his eyes were screaming was true.   
  
"Sirius?"  
  
---  
  
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A/N: okay, I know that this one was short but I hope it was still okay. I'm sooooo sorry that I haven't been posting as often as I once was, I DO hope to be posting more often but I apologize in advance if it takes me a bit to get the next one out. I love all of your great reviews and I appreciate everything that you say more than you can possibly imagine! Keep'em coming my fellow fans!!!!


	8. Chapter 7: The First Kill

A/N: I know that it's sad that Charlie married a girl he didn't love, but he did get her pregnant and everyone out there knows that Charlie isn't the kind of guy who would desert her. And for those of you wondering who "William Weasley" is, it's Bill. Bill is short for William. duh. 

Xenith

Chapter Seven

"Fred," Ron nudged his brother in his good side. "Fred, wake up."

Fred groaned, blinking groggily at Ron and rolled into a sitting position, his head resting against the molding stone behind him. "What?"

"Do you hear that?" Ron asked, cocking his head to the side and listening.

"I don't hear any---" Fred began, his eyes widening. "Anything."

Ron nodded knowingly. "There's nothing. Not a footstep, not a scream . . . nothing."

"Where are they?" Fred asked, touching his bruised side delicately.

"I think that they left, about an hour ago I heard some muttering about something---an attack I think."

"It's got to be massive if he took all of the Death Eaters with him."

Ron nodded again, getting to his feet and pressing his ear to the dungeon door.

"Do you have your belt still?" Ron asked, running his grime incrusted fingers over the bars in the door's window.

"Yeah, why?" Fred asked, joining Ron at the door.

"Hand it over."

Fred obliged, sliding his belt from the loops and handing it to Ron. Fred watched in awe as his brother's undeniable ingenuity came into play. Ron jammed the buckle under the pin that held the hinge to the door and frame.

"Those things are magically sealed you know," Fred interjected. "You're not going to get open with some old belt buc---" and the pin came loose from the corroded hinge. "Never-mind."

"Magic's not as strong when there's no wizard there to enforce it Fred," Ron said prying the remaining pins out. "Besides, the spell's cast on the lock. Not the hinge."

"Is there anyone else?" Ron murmured as he and Fred finally crept out of their prison.

"There're only seven others," Fred whispered back. "But we need to get our wands before we even have the chance of saving anyone."

---

"Sirius," Harry said hesitantly, not allowing himself the pleasure of hugging his godfather. "What are you doing here?"

"What? No hug?" Sirius replied, opening his arms and not answering Harry's question.

Harry shook his head sharply.

"Dumbledore brought me in to teach you two a thing or two about a thing or two," Sirius replied. "Now, how many laps have you done yet?"

"Seven," Hermione replied, barely keeping the exhaustion out of her voice.

"Alright," Sirius said, clapping his hands together. "Give me three more and then we'll start on stretches."

Harry nodded again and set off. Hermione huffed and ran after him.

---

Ron and Fred moved as swiftly as possible down the dark corridor in the direction of what they hoped would lead them to the dungeon in which their wands were being kept.

"Do you even know where you're going?" Fred hissed at his brother as he hobbled along behind him.

"Only slightly," Ron hissed. "Now shut-it."

The two Weasleys turned the corner, running straight into an elaborately carved door, drastically different than the dungeon doors and iron bars lining the previous corridor.

The portal was open ever so slightly, the edges rimmed in candlelight. Fred and Ron moved closer, moving the door and slipping into the room.

The Death Eater within stood facing away from them, looking through a stack of parchment and muttering under his breath.

Ron spotted the tip of a wand poking out of the top of the drawer of the desk in front of the dark guard. Ron nudged his brother, nodding towards the desk.

The two moved cat-like towards the desk; Fred to the enemy, Ron to the wands.

The Death Eater feigned ignorance of the two young wizards, waiting until the elder Weasley was right behind him before making his move.

As Fred was preparing to jump the Death Eater, the much larger man spun, wrapping his arms around the already injured boy.

Ron had his hand only inches away from the stolen wands. "I wouldn't recommend touching those," the Death Eater said genially.

Fred stood frozen, the man's hand pulling his head violently to the side, his wand jammed into his temple.

Ron left his hand where it was, they had to get their wands, now would be their only chance for escape. His eyes darted around the room, his mind racing as he tried to remember the minimal training he had received well over a year ago. Within seconds he caught a glimpse of, what appeared to be, the hilt of a blade hidden beneath a sheaf of parchment on the bookshelf beside his head.

Ron's hand darted to his left, his fingers wrapping around the hilt of the knife. As Ron moved the knife, the Death Eater began his curse:

"Avada Keda---"

Fred twisted out of the way as the blade of Ron's thrown knife thudded into the man's thick throat.

Before Ron even had a enough time to think about what he had just done, Fred was pushing the body off of him and scrambling to Ron's side. Fred ripped open the drawer and took hold of the wands in one of his freckled hands.

"Come-on!" Fred called to Ron from the doorway.

Ron shook himself to his senses and dashed after his brother, grabbing the keys to the dungeons from beside the door.

Fred moved past the first cell, stopping at the second and calling to Ron for the keys.

"What about this one?" Ron asked, pausing at the first.

"Don't bother," Fred replied, not looking at Ron as he struggled with the rusty lock. "They're dead."

---

Ron, Fred, and the five remaining prisoners moved slowly and silently out of the dungeons and through the floor of the Malfoy's drawing room.

The group encountered no-one until they were half-way across the grand entrance hall. A loud 'snap!' alerted them to the arrival of a small, pointy-nosed house elf.

"Petrificus-Totals," Tonks, a captured Auror from the Ministry, cast, immobilizing the elf.

Fred patted the frozen creature in the head as they slipped through the front doors of Malfoy Manor.

---

"Charlie!" Nathan Andrew's, Charlie's closest friend on site, called, skidding into the meeting room panting. "Charlie, come quick---something's up," Nathan's eyes were alight with excitement and fear.

"What is it? What's happened?" Charlie demanded, jumping to his feet, his parchment maps floating to the cave floor.

"There are people, seven of them, heading towards us," Nathan briefed him as the moved into the corridor.

"How fast?"

"See for yourself," the two had reached the guard entrance and Nathan handed him a pair of enchanted binoculars.

At the edge of the forest, almost a mile away, were five stooped figures, moving slowly and purposefully towards the cave complex.

"Send out a team of ten to gather them up," Charlie ordered. "If they're obviously Death Eaters, kill or capture them. Bring the captured here and lock them in the interrogation room and let them sweat for an hour or so. Come and get me when all of that has been done."

"Right," Nathan nodded, moving to carry out his orders.

"And Nathan?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to loose anyone, got it?"

"Sure boss," Nathan gave Charlie a foolish little bow and darted away from the guard station.

---

"Charlie, you're not going to believe this," Nathan said an hour later, leading Charlie to the entrance of their pseudo-interrogation room. "We gave them an hour-and-a-half, like you said, to make sure they weren't on the Polyjuice potion---and look," Nathan tapped his wand on the door before them. The wood shimmered and turned transparent revealing the occupants within.

"What the hell . . ." Charlie trailed off, his eyes falling on the two red-heads sitting on the floor. "Open the door!"

---

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((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦-  
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´

A/N: and I'm in my first year of University right now, so I'm really sorry that I won't be able to post as often as I used to. The workload is really tough, but I promise that I will still try to get out as many as I can as fast as I can!


	9. Chapter 8: Revelations

Xenith 

Chapter Eight

Harry drank in the absolute beauty that was Ginny Weasley as he sat in the Quidditch stands during practice. He brought his cigarette to his lips, his eyes locked on the crimson goddess as she flew above moving in precise synchronization with the other Chasers. She was a vision in fleece crimson sweats . . . /nothing more beautiful in all the world./ Harry thought, running his fingers through his hair and down his stubbly jaw.

"All right!" Harry called to his team. "Get on down here you buggers!"

The Gryffindors landed around him in the stands, sweating and panting from their scrimmage.

"That was good, but I know that you can do better-and, more importantly, I expect better." Harry turned his back on the players and jumped down the stairs two at a time to the green of the pitch.

"Harry!" Ginny called, jogging down after him. "Harry Potter, you stop this instant!" Harry turned the corner into the Gryffindor locker room, stopping just within the doorway's shadow.

"What?" Harry asked darkly as she entered after him.

"Harry, come out of there, all I can see is the glowing of that damn cigarette."

Harry didn't move and said nothing.

"What's your problem lately?" Ginny demanded when he showed no intention of moving.

"What?"

"What is it that you expect of us? You tell us that we can do better and then just leave you need to tell your tem what it is that you want us to do, you have to coach us! And it's not just the team, lately you've-"

"Gin-"

"No, don't interrupt me Harry, I've wanted to say this for quite some time so you need to just shut-it and listen up. You spend all of your time training, don't think that I don't notice, and none of your time with anything else. I don't know how your work hasn't suffered, but I do know that you are pushing yourself to damn hard and it has got to stop before you kill yourself!"

Harry shook his head and brought his smoke to his lips. /She doesn't understand . . . she can't./

"I have to do this, Gin, I don't expect you to understand."

Harry brushed past the petite girl, using all of his willpower to not kiss her goodbye.

"I love you Harry Potter," Ginny called after him, causing him to pause in his retreat. "But I wouldn't expect you to understand that."

-

The door of their cave prison slammed open, a rain of debris falling from the ceiling at the disturbance.

"Fred!" The daze of confusion and pain that had fallen over Fred in their hours of travel and freezing temperatures. Fred failed to recognize the owner of the voice, only able to focus on the stabbing pain in his side.

"Ron!" Charlie burst into the room followed by a trio of medics, Nathan and Mathew Jameson. "What are you two doing here? What's happened to Fred? Tonks? What's going on?" Charlie demanded of Ron without ever giving him a chance to answer. "Lorentz, Seaman, McClellen," Charlie ordered the three medics. "Take Fred to the Infirmary, and if you let him die . . . it's on your heads."

Two of the medics moved the nearly passed out Fred Weasley onto a stretcher, levitating him out of the cave and sprinting out after him. The third medic took a small boy from Tonks' arms and rushed after his two fellows.

"Mat, Nathan, get these people into the extra bunks," everyone did as Charlie told them, wasting no time in assisting the escapees.

Charlie removed his cloak and wrapped it around his youngest brother's shoulders. Ron held the cloak close as Charlie held him in his arms and cried into his shoulder. Ron let Charlie cry, knowing why he wasn't able to cry himself. He pressed his forehead into the crook of Charlie's neck, his breathing hot and ragged and his anger at Lord Voldemort boiling ever closer to the surface.

"Charlie," Ron said after several minutes. "Charlie, you need to contact Dumbledore. You need to send a messenger right now." He shook his brother ever so slightly, encouraging him to move. Charlie pulled himself to his feet, bringing Ron up with him. Ron felt his knees buckle, unwilling to support his weight any longer. Charlie caught him before he fell.

"We better get you to a bed before you—" Ron collapsed in his bother's arms. "—pass out," Charlie finished lamely. Charlie scooped his several inches taller younger brother into his arms, carrying him into the room where Nathan, Mat and now Katie were tending to the other escapees.

Charlie tucked Ron into his camp bed and pulled a chair up beside him and sunk into it, preparing for the ling night ahead.

-

Harry ducked into the corridor outside of his Transfiguration classroom and into the rush of students on their way to lunch in the Great Hall.

As he moved among the students he was unaware of the looks that they gave him, distant from the space the others left between themselves and him. No-one bumped into him—his arm was never brushed.

Well, all of the above was true until he was within sight of the Great Hall.

"A moment of your time, Harry," Terence's hand shot out from the alcove of a side corridor leading towards the kitchens and gardens. Terence touched Harry's arm lightly but with firm intention.

Harry cut away from the crowd, following Terence down the dark corridor and into an empty classroom.

"We've just relieved word that there has been an escape," Terence said, perching on the edge of the nearest desk and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Where?" Harry demanded.

"We are not sure yet, Dumbledore received one of Mat Jameson's midget dragons from Charlie Weasley's camp up near Malfoy Manor. The beast said, according to one of the Jameson boy, that they just found seven escapees claiming to have just broken out right under the noses of the Dark Lord."

"Who were they?"

"Listen Harry, think about what I just said before you go asking questions," Terence said sharply.

Harry's mind raced over what Terence had just told him. Only seven were found—no names." Harry gave his mentor a nod.

"Good."

Harry made to leave but Terence's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"There will be an attack."

Harry turned, the emerald fire of his eyes locking on Terence's angular face.

"Here, and within the month."

"And Dumbledore knows?"

"I've informed him."

"Voldemort's coming here?"

Terence nodded.

"Why isn't Dumbledore emptying the school?"

"He is making arrangements to keep the school safe."

Harry took a moment to take in all Terence had said.

"That is all I have," Terence said, picking up on the pain he knew lay deep within Harry's heart.

Harry left the classroom and Terence behind, entering the corridor with an anger he felt with every ounce of his being; in general not something good for Harry to be feeling at any moment in time.

Terence could feel his anger, the electricity that it pumped into the air was undeniably palpable. He had not wanted to inform Harry of the most recent occurrences but Dumbledore had insisted and when it came to Dumbledore whatever was said was law. Yes, there had been an escape from Malfoy Manor, this much was proven fact, and yes, there was to be an attack on Hogwarts, this was an unavoidable future. Terence was aware of this information, as was Harry now, but unlike Harry, he understood the full impact of what had happened and of what was to come.

The only possible way for there to have been an escape from right under the Dark Lord's nose was if the majority of the Death Eaters were away from the Manor, and if this much were true, then something was amiss. And according to Dumbledore this meant that there was to be a battle.

There was going to be an attack, that's what Dumbledore had told Terence so therefore that was what was to be. And Terence seemed to be fine with it and Dumbledore was taking absolutely no action against it. _What the fuck?_

Harry punched the stone wall of the Entrance Hall, sending the portrait of a young wizard by the name of Artemis Fowl crashing to the floor.

"Hey!" The portrait snapped from its crumpled place on the floor. Harry could feel his anger boiling over the breaking point of his mind, could feel his fingertips coming alive with the electricity of his unleashed magic held dormant for so long.

Harry ignored the portrait, he knew he was walking the thin line between control and chaos. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and before he could stop himself his fist shot out once again, slamming into the wall with every ounce of anger and emotion that he felt pouring into his closed hand.

Shivers ran up the ancient stone and wood work keeping the Hall erect. Dust and debris that had long ago settled in the highest rafters of the Hall fell in clouds onto the lone boy.

-

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((¸¸.·´ ..·´ :¦- tbc :¦-  
:¦- ((¸¸.·´


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